


Pezzini Meets Blake: The Slice N Dice Murders

by Nadare



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Witchblade (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Murder Mystery, On Hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadare/pseuds/Nadare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara Pezzini is called upon to help on a murder case in St. Louis, Missouri. At first, everything seems normal. But then, doesn't everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pezzini Meets Blake: The Slice N Dice Murders

_Author's Note: This is an old story. I still love the idea of it, and I may get back to it one day._

_[Written in 2000, edited 8/22/15]_

**_\------------------------------_ **

**_"Pezzini Meets Blake:_ ** **_The Slice-N-Dice Murders"_ **

  
Part One

The city was alive, as it usually was on Monday morning. Traffic jams had already build up on the freeways. That's why I owned a motorcycle. I steered through alleyways, back roads, anything other than traffic. The motorcycle roared between my legs as scenery flew by. The mysterious yet beautiful bracelet lay calmly on my wrist. I still didn't know all the powers of the Witchblade.

The artifact had found its way onto my wrist during a shoot out at the Midtown museum. Yeah, that's right, the one that blew up a few weeks ago. I guess it was mostly my fault, a bullet reflected off the gauntlet and hit an ancient pipe. I wasn't killed in the blast though I should be dead.

One man did die in the explosion. Lorenzo Vespushi, Thomas Gallo's protege. Tommy Gallo was a legendary crime figure, and hitman. I had arrested him weeks ago, but he had jumped off a balcony before he could make his court date. He had killed two of my best friends, and my adopted father. He had confessed and my word had been solid evidence against him. I had wanted him to rot in jail, but karma had other plans.

Even though my mind was on other things, I still found the 11th Precinct of New York City. My hands slipped the helmet off, and I headed to my office. Jake McCartey sat on my desk, flipping through a thick file. Jake was my new partner since my best friend died. He was not only my best friend, but my partner, and I missed Danny every time my mind wandered onto him. Two pictures of Danny's family sat on my desk. Danny's family didn't like me very much anymore.  


Jake was kind of cute if you go for the surfer type. He had his hair spiked up, and turned his blue eyes to me. We mostly got along when we weren't trading bravado. "Pez, been waiting. Joe wants to see you in his office." I nodded. Jake and I sometimes got together to play pool. I won nearly every time.

"What file you got in your hands?" He raised a thick brow but let me see a picture of a body. A dead body. At first, my mind refused to put the pieces together. It was male, that I could tell. But blood covered mostly everything. I raised my hand to my eye, and images flashed through my mind too fast for me to comprehend. Then, they slowed. I saw a young man, walking down the steps of some sort of club. A blur of speed attacked, and the man screamed. His eyes went wide with death as blood poured everywhere.  Jake put a hand on my shoulder. "Pez? You still in there?"  


I shook my head, letting the hand fall to my side. The Witchblade had taken control again though I had done it purposely. So, the man had been ripped to pieces. Not one of my top ways to go. "I better go see Joe now." Jake looked concerned. Hell, I was worried about me. I was gaining control of the Witchblade slowly. Now, I was deliberately using its powers.  Joe Siri had been my father's partner before he was murdered. I'd known him for most of my life. Joe was six feet tall, and menacing if you were the criminal type. He was nearing retirement, and I think he looked forward to it. He'd seen a lot of crime in this city of violence.                                                                                                                                       
      "Sara. I got a case for you to solve, in Missouri." I frowned. Missouri? I'd never been there before.  “What kind of case, sir?" Friend or no friend, he was still my boss.  "The kind where people are dying. I gave Jake a file containing all the details" Oh, so that was what Jake was reading. "Why is New York helping out Missouri?" 

Joe has been suspicious of me since the incident at the Old Rialto Theater. Three of Gallo's men had been killed there. By little old me. Though no one could prove it. I don't even remember all the details, I sort of blanked out. All I know is that the Witchblade was involved.

"They need good detectives. I recommended you and Jake." Coming for Joe, this was a compliant.  "Thanks." He smiled faintly. "I'll be sure to get on it, sir." I walked back to my office. Jake was sitting in my chair this time. I rolled my eyes at him. "Come on, Jake, we got things to do."

He smiled at the "we" part. I rode my motorcycle home, and Jake promised to pick me up later in the evening. I managed to smuggle the file of out his hands. Lucky me. Jake didn't know I had it yet. I'm sure he'd been complaining about it later on the flight to St. Louis. I packed enough for a week, sure I could solve it in that time.

I sat down and spent the next two hours reading about the recent murders in St. Louis, Missouri. All three victims had been ripped to pieces. Each victim had worked at a strip club called Guilty Pleasures. _Nice name,_ I thought reading. The first victim's name was Stephen, no last name. Witnesses had said it had happened in less than two minutes. Stephen was the last act on stage that night. The owner, a Jean-Claude, had said that Stephen had no enemies.

Well, somebody hadn't liked him. The second victim was Jack Harris, a stripper who'd been fired weeks before he'd been killed. He had minor crimes on his record, shoplifting, etc. Not ones you'd go to jail for. He'd had a drink before exiting Guilty Pleasures, and died right where Stephen had. Weird.

The third was a bouncer named Buzz. He picked fights, the owner had commented, but never threatened anyone directly. Whatever that meant. Buzz had also died in exactly the same spot as the others. All of these crimes had happened a day apart. The bodies were being refrigerated till more information turned up. Any family members or witnesses were being asked to step up. The murders have been nicknamed the Slice-N-Dice Murders. _Cute,_ I thought closing the file.

Whoever was killing these people was fast. I'd have a talk with the owner of Guilty Pleasures and the witnesses. In my line of work, people were not nearly as innocent as they seemed. Often, they were protecting someone or doing the crime themselves. What a cruel world. 

 

  
Part Two

Flying had never bothered me, but it sure bothered Jake. He had insisted I take the window seat, and now he squirmed in his seat.  "How long was this flight again?" Jake asked very quietly. It was a night flight, it would land in St. Louis around ten in the evening. "It's only been an hour, Jake. You still got two hours to squirm in your seat."

A chuckle made its out of my lips. I was laughing, I hadn't laughed since...Danny had been murdered. A frown replaced the smile. There, now I felt a little more normal. "Please, don't laugh about it, Pez. I'm sure you have a phobia, too." I thought about it for a moment. Was I afraid of anything? Death...no. "If I do, Jake, I don't know about it yet."

I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist, and thought about how I came to wield the Witchblade. What if I hadn't been in the Midtown museum that day? November 11th, 11-11. Would the Witchblade have sat there, in the Joan of Arc collection, for years to come?  No, it wouldn't have. It would have found me in another way. Warmth covered my wrist, the jewel in the bracelet was glowing. I stared at it, with curiously. The glow got larger until I couldn't see anything but the dark orange of the jewel. 

I was tied to a stake, doomed to die. The Witchblade had abandoned me, a priest held it in his hands carefully. "Why have you abandoned me?!" I screamed as flames licked up the white cotton dress. Pain overwhelmed me, and my vision faded as fire scoured my face. I tried to spread my hand out, but it was tied too tightly. I gave into the pain, and darkness became my world. Final and complete darkness.  
  
I woke up with a gasp, and drew in a shaky breath. Jake was staring at me strangely as if I'd uttered something shocking in my sleep.  "What are you staring at?" I asked, trying not to be rude. He shook his head and started squirming in his seat again. I managed to politely to ask a man seated across from us the time. Nine forty-five. Only fifteen more minutes to watch Jake be tortured. Suddenly, I didn't want the flight to end.  
  


 

Part Three

The airport was busy, surprisingly so for the late hour. We hailed a cab, and Jake asked the driver to take us to a hotel. If we were going to solve anything, we'd need sleep first. I requested two rooms while smiling sweetly at Jake. He just grinned and grabbed his room key. Our rooms were connected. Oh, goody. I took a shower first, relieved to be off the plane. Cramped seats were not very comfortable. Especially when the person sitting next to you wouldn't keep still. I stood in the array of warm water sprinkling over my head, and sighed.

 I had wanted to talk to Mr. Irons before we left, but never had the chance. Kenneth Irons was a millionaire, he owned five percent of the property in New York City, not to mention a successful company called Vorschlag Industries. He often helped me when I wanted to know something about the Witchblade. I suspected he knew more than he was letting on, but until he double-crossed me or I had solid evidence against him, I wasn't going to bitch about it.

A soft knock landed on the bathroom door, I froze deciding to ignore it or slip on a towel. "Pez, are we going to go over the murders anytime soon?"  I slipped on a long towel and opened the door. "Or I can just watch you dress." I actually smiled at that comment.  "You wish, Jake. Give me a few minutes and we'll get started. All right?" Jake nodded, and left me to dry my hair.

It was fifteen minutes later when I came out of the bathroom. Jake either didn't want to complain about it or he didn't notice. "All right, Sara. We’ve got three male victims all ripped apart under two minutes. Who could do it fast enough, and not be seen by witnesses?" Boy, wasn't he all business.

"We'll need to talk to families and witnesses before I can come up with whodunit, Jake. First, let's think of a motive. Why would a person kill men? It could be a lady killer though why all employees of Guilty Pleasures?"  Jake opened the file. Damn, he'd gone through my suitcase to find it. "Prejudiced, maybe?" Jake offered. "Or a hater of the strip club, Guilty Pleasures. It could have just been dumb luck, all three victims were male," I was starting to get a headache. Jake stroked his lower lip thoughtfully.

I pulled a hand through my thick brown hair. It was starting to dry already. I searched for a pad of paper and found one in the drawer of the hotel nightstand. I wrote down the names, times of deaths, and our guesses at why the killer had done it. Jake and I had discovered we were a good team at solving cases.

When we weren't working on new cases, we tackled the unsolved ones. We'd managed to close six cases so far. Not bad for a pair of detectives who had only worked together for a less than a month. We decided to tackle the rest tomorrow, when we'd be able to see the crime scenes, and talk to witnesses. It was good to be alive.  


 

Part Four

Sunlight shone on my eyes, making me turn the other way. But the damage was already done, I was wide awake. I ended up staring at the bracelet laying on my nightstand. Would I wear it today? I'd found out I could see other things people couldn't. Beyond people's normal perceptions to quote Mr. Irons. I had talked to Danny after he had been murdered. I thought it was a hallucination but no, it had been real. Painfully real. "Everyday above ground is a special day. You were right." I heard his words in my head, and nearly cringed. I didn't want to remember Danny this early in the morning.

Yes, I would wear it. Never know when someone would try to kill you.  I dressed, put gel in my hair and opened the door that connected our rooms. Jake was sprawled out on the bed, wearing Thundercats boxer shorts. I laughed, a rich and throaty one that echoed along the walls. Jake's eyes opened and he sat up, confused at my laughter. Tears ran down my cheeks, my abdomen ached. I waited until I could talk, and only fell back into laughter again. Jake watched cartoons especially Thundercats. On the weekends, when he wasn't working. I found it amusing.

"Laugh now, Pezzini. I'll find something to throw back into your face." I managed to gain control of my laughter. "I doubt it, Jake." To my surprise and horror, he did find something to throw back in my face. "Midtown museum, Sara. Owners managed to all their artifacts except one item. It was part of the Joan of Arc collection, donated by Kenneth Irons. It was a gauntlet, a sort of glove. Now, you wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you, Pezzini?" I just stood there, frozen to the carpet. How had he found out about all of this? He grabbed some clothes from his duffel bag and threw them on the bed.

"Jake, if you remember that night correctly, I was confused about what happened. One moment, Vespuchi is shooting at me...the next..." I left him to guess. I would not willingly reveal anything about the Witchblade to him. "I was not asking about what happened, I was asking about the gauntlet mysteriously named the Witchblade."

I shook my head.  "What do you want me to say, Jake?" I put up a hand before he could respond. "We'll get personal later, all right? But right now, we have a case to solve." He took a deep breath, and let it out through his nose.  "All right, Pezzini. Business first, personal shit later." I couldn't have said it better myself.  


 

Part Five

The rented car was filled with tension. Jake wanted to know my secret, and I wasn't going to let him in on it. It would only cause him confusion.  We would going to meet Sergeant Storr, the cop in charge of the investigation. We pulled into the parking lot of the police station, and Jake shut off the motor. He sat in that seat for a few moments before turning to me.  "You ready, Pez?" I nodded, taking off my leather jacket.

It was hot in St. Louis, much hotter than New York City. I opened my door and slipped out of the car. Jake slammed his car door, I didn't. He was obviously upset. I couldn't do anything to calm him down so I said nothing. We walked through the doors together, and I was prepared to be shut out. A city cop not wanted by the locals. Jake and I got the opposite, we were welcomed. "Detectives Pezzini and McCartey, I presume?"

I turned towards the sound, and found a grinning man. He was about five seven with curly black hair going gray. Dark-rimmed glasses framed brown eyes. He wore a brown suit and black tie. A smile was plastered on his face as if someone had painted it on. "I'm Detective Zerbrowski," he said extending a hand to Jake. But his brown eyes remained on me, and I ignored him the best I could.

"Nice to meet you, Zerbrowski," Jake answered politely. Now, the detective turned to me expecting politeness. Too bad. I didn't offer my hand, and he still stood grinning.  A woman's voice cut through the air, making Zerbrowski grin wider.

"Katie needs to put you on a leash." The voice belonged to a petite woman. I would have said small but that didn't cover it. She was five three, and had straight black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her dark brown eyes looked friendly but held something I couldn't place.  "There isn't any leash long enough to hold me, Anita." Anita cracked a smile, but it faded as she looked at me strangely. I stared back, wondering what had intrigued her.

My hands slid over the Witchblade seeking comfort. What I found was a hot warmth, and I jerked my hand away.  "I'm surprised you haven't introduced yourself, Blake." A new voice, this one belonging to a very tall man. He had hair cut short, it reminded me of a crew cut. His figure was build, I estimated he was about six eight, give or take. He looked like he knew how to do his job.

 "Dolph Storr." He offered me his hand, and I shook it. Anita Blake took a step back, and leaned against a desk.  "Sara Pezzini," I replied letting my hand fall. So he was the one we were supposed to talk to. He shook hands with Jake, and led us to a large office. Anita Blake watched me with curious eyes, something was bothering her. Probably me.

"So you're the detectives Joe Siri recommend. Before we visit any crime scenes, you got any ideas as to why the crimes occurred?" Jake and I looked at each other, and I nodded to him. He told the sergeant our ideas. He hadn't pulled rank yet, which bothered me. Anita Blake walked in the office, and Dolph's eyes flicked to her, causing a frown on his blunt face. Her jacket gaped showing a glint of metal, and I knew she was armed. But she wasn't a cop, she treated Dolph like a friend, not her boss. Personal shit was going on between them too. You could tell by the dead silence.

"I'm going now. Beep me if you need anymore advice." Dolph didn't respond for a moment. "Don't kill anyone." I raised a brow, what did that mean? Anita Blake knew what it meant, and she wasn't happy about it. She slammed the door on her way out. Leaving me to wonder why she looked at me the way she did. Like she knew I carried the Witchblade on my wrist. The worst thing was I suspected she knew what damage it could do.  
  


 

Part Six

The city morgue was a large building. I suspected there were a lot more death and murders than usual around here. Sergeant Storr, Jake, and I walked down a wide corridor large enough for three gurneys.  The guard station was outfitted with guns, which surprised me. Why would a guard station need guns? In case someone breaks in, maybe. The guard looked up and glanced at Dolph. "These are the detectives Joe Siri recommended?"

Gee, wasn't Joe popular down here? Perhaps he went to high school here.  The guard smiled at us, and asked how Joe was doing. Jake answered before I could open my mouth. "He's doing fine, nearing retirement soon." Not a hint of anger showed through his voice.

"Good for him. You guys can go right on through, Dolph knows where the bodies are." The guard went back to his business, and Dolph led the way. "How do you know Joe if you don't mind me asking, Sergeant." Dolph glanced at me, a suspicious look at that. Maybe he'd be double-crossed before. 

"Dolph, please. We trained together, Joe and I. But then our sergeant assigned him somewhere else. I've only seen him twice in the last year." Jake looked at me, I glared back. My glare dropped as Dolph stopped at a wide door. "I'm going to talk to the medical examiner. The bodies are right there. Good luck." Dolph disappeared out the door, leaving us alone.

We looked at the first body. It was sliced and diced all right. Little pieces of sliced flesh lay on the metal table. I didn't even recognize some parts of the parts. Male, yes, but barely. The only body part I could make some sense of was the chest area. I pulled on some gloves and put the chest pieces together.

Jake stood by watching me with a raised brow. I turned to look at him.  "Jake," I said warily. He walked over to me. "Yes?" I pointed to two spilt pieces. "Look at this, see the shape of that cut? It's straight as an arrow. I think a sword did this." Jake nodded. "But who the hell uses a sword to murder people?" I shook my head. "Someone old-fashioned."  
  


 

Part Seven

Anita Blake walked in as we were discussing the killer’s profile. "It would have to be some-" I felt something powerful at that moment. I looked up and saw three figures walking towards us. One being Anita, and two being other men. I looked at the first man carefully. His hair fell in thick waves, nearly hiding his face. He was wearing a pale green dress shirt untucked, sleeves rolled back over muscular forearms. Also, he was wearing brown dress slacks. I barely saw brown eyes as the figure suddenly disappeared from view. 

The other man was slender and was wearing a dark red dress shirt with black leather pants. His black hair hung to his shoulder like silk. His midnight blue eyes smiled at me as he vanished out of my sight.  Anita was talking, and I hadn't been listening. I closed my eyes and opened them, Anita was alone. No one else was around her.

"What the hell?" I whispered to myself. What I had seen made no sense. How could one person contain three people? "Sara!" I turned towards Jake's voice. "Are you all right? You zoned out for a couple moments." I shook my head.  "I'm all right," I said, but I wasn't so sure anymore. I reached down to undo the Witchblade, and tugged. It wouldn't come off. I felt a small jolt of electricity on my arm. I jerked my hand away scared. I was in control of the Witchblade, not the opposite. Or so I thought.

"What were you saying, Miss Blake?" She raised an eyebrow, but pointed to the chest I had pieced together. "I agree with you on the weapon used. The body is evidence enough, but what type is going to be hard to figure out." I nodded. "Like hell to figure out."  Anita smiled at me. Her pager went off startling all of us. "Bert...," Anita said gritting her teeth. "Great."

I looked at her, wondering who Bert was. "Is he your boyfriend?" Anita looked like she was about to barf at my question. "Hell no. He's my boss, a greedy one at that." I nodded. Anita Blake confused me. Very much. First, the two men I had seen. Second, her personality.  
  
To be Continued?


End file.
